Full of Temptation

There were three petite knocks on Ambrosia Mintz’s planum french door. The interruption was enough to throw the three-time CFDA Fashion winner into a mood. She flung off her glasses and rolled her office chair back with disarray. “What is it?” She barked. It took a moment before for her novice assistant; Candice poked her head in, a blonde Cleopatra cut bobbing past her cheeks. In her hands she carried a polka-dotted gift bag.

“Someone dropped off a birthday present, Miss Mintz.” Candice announced the obvious and set the gift down on top of Ambrosia’s sketchpad. The artist smiled at her assistant sweetly, collected her hands atop her lap and shook her long rainbow dyed hair behind her shoulders.

“Candice, sweetie—" Ambrosia began calmly. “What am I?”

“A fashion designer?” Candice answered.

“Correct!” Ambrosia began clapping. “And what do I do on this desk?” She leaned forward, playing an overly friendly grin on her lips.

“Um, work?”

“Very good!” Ambrosia leaned back in her chair again. A moment of pause. Candice began to melt, realizing what she’d just done. Quickly, she plucked the present off the sketchpad.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No. You would’ve been sorry had you smeared my new chiffon dress design.” Ambrosia slipped her glasses back on and inspected her work. Candice huddled the present awkwardly. “I’m sending you out to get lunch.”

“What do you want for lunch?” Candice rolled her eyes.

“Not sure.” Ambrosia hummed as she scratched in some small details with her pencil. Candice hated the lingering silence that took over during these moments. “There’s a new sushi place called Zia’s down on Arbrook Avenue. Passed it this morning on the way in.” Ambrosia flipped the pencil around and began to erase. You’ve sent me there multiple times. Ambrosia wanted to complain.

“Do you…. want to open your present?”

“Oh, yes.” Ambrosia finally dropped her pencil and reached for the gift. The paper was pulled out and crumpled, and Candice watched Ambrosia pull something from the bag and smile. It was a Moleskine Black Japanese Album. Seriously? What’s so special about a twenty-dollar sketch album?

“For all the lessons you taught me, here’s something that symbolizes our first days together.” Ambrosia read aloud. “You were my mentor, my friend, my inspiration. Happy Birthday. Love Bethany.” Ambrosia’s smile made Candice frown. Bethany was Ambrosia’s previous assistant. She’d gotten a job in Italy working for some high-end art firm and Ambrosia always boasted about how Candice should be more like her. “I sent Bethany to get me a new sketchbook once.” Ambrosia laughed. “She came back with a Japanese album by mistake. But I drew an entire line up of designs on all its folded pages. This—” she held it up for Candice to see. “This is a meaningful gift.”

“So, Sushi?” Candice reminded.

“Yes!” Ambrosia was still smiling. Candice hated it. She hated how Bethany was such a charm. She just wanted someone to appreciate her artwork too. Ambrosia looked about her desk. “Did you pick up more sticky notes like I asked?” Candice shook her head. Damn it. An awkward vibe snuck back in. With a sigh, Ambrosia jotted something down on the inside of the album and slid it over. “Address is there. Get some nigiri rolls.” I know where I’m going. But Candice took the album anyway.

Digging in her purse, Ambrosia searched, then sighed. “You’re going to have to pay them with a check.” She pulled out her checkbook, filled out her name, signed it and left the total blank.” There was a pause. Candice noticed Ambrosia smile again and she rolled out her drawer, pulled out a blank card and wrote a message within. Bethany was the last word, big and bold. Ambrosia shifted over to her checkbook and filled a check out for… $20,000!? Seriously? Candice wanted to scream. The check was fitted into the card, slipped into an envelope and prettied up with an Italian address. She slid it over to Candice. “Drop that at the post office on your way.” Ambrosia ordered. “Now go on, my hunger is working up the fits.” She swooshed her fingers, shooing Candice out.

- -

Candice stomped down the street, trapped inside her thoughts. I can’t believe she’s just… handing over 20,000 dollars to that … that show off! She made way towards the post office. Bethany’s work wasn’t even that good! The drop box come into view. I do more than she ever did. Destination met. Ambrosia pulled the envelope to Italy out and studied it. She flipped it over. It was sealed with a rose sticker that… was barely sealed on. Hmm. She chewed on her lip. No, I can’t. Not again. She pushed the letter towards the mouth of the drop box and then quickly snatched it back, temptation granted. She wandered over towards a bench and sat, pulling the empty check from her tote. Pulling out a pen, she filled in the check and grinned. Twenty dollars is all you deserve, miss Bethany. Carefully, she peeled the butterfly sticker up, pulled the card from the envelope and swapped the checks. She stored the twenty-grand inside the Japanese album and carefully, she swiped her thumb over the butterfly sticker firmly. Holding her breath, she ran over to the drop box and pressed the envelope through.

- -

“Thirty-five, sixty.” Candice would cover lunch out of her own pocket. I can afford it after all. She grinned and reached for her wallet. She realized her tote seemed a little lighter than before. Her wallet was there… her sunglasses, her earbuds; what am I missing? Then, she remembered the Japanese album, the … check! Immediately, she felt flush. She rummaged through her tote frantically, hoping the check was in there, but it wasn’t. After she paid, Candice fled out the door and charged up the street. The styrofoam containers squeaked against the swooshing of the plastic bag around them, playing chorus to her ambitious hunt.

The bench was in view, and she spotted the album where she’d left it. Relieved, she slowed down some to catch her breath. She had to laugh to herself as she huffed and puffed. Almost there. Her mind began to wander in plot. She’d cash it in a week or so, to not red flag Miss Mintz. The things I’m going to buy. She beamed with anticipation. However . . .

. . . her smile faded as she saw a young boy snag interest in the abandoned album. He plucked it from the bench, flipped it around and parted its binding. The check fluttered to his feet along with the thick accordion-folded paper.

“Hey!” Candice called. “Hey kid!” she picked up pace again, heels clacking rapidly. And she watched him bend over, collect the check, read the check and express surprise through his mouth, agape. “No!” She barked; the kid jumped as she came feet from him. “That’s not yours!” She growled. The kid threw the Japanese album down and ran. Clack-clack-clack-clack, she stopped just before charging the wall and caught her breath. She watched the kid cut right down an alley and she had to sit with a bit of defeat. Folding up the Japanese Album, she stuffed it in her tote, drew in a breath, and ran after him.

The ally was narrow and pressed up to a barred gate. A dead end. He was down there somewhere. With my check. She walked softly, keeping her eyes peeled, listening, hunting. But she wasn’t very good at it, because he popped up from beside the dumpster, shoved her and ran towards the barred gate. She nearly fell over but found her footing and chased him. He climbed the gate like nothing. Candice set down everything and picked up speed. As she reached the gate, she shoved her hands through and caught the kid by his arm and pulled him flush against the bars. He tried to bite her, but she pushed his head away with her other hand.

“GIVE ME THE CHECK!” Candice roared.

“NO!” The boy retaliated.

“THAT’S MINE.” She looked for her purse, for her phone. But she’d left it a few feet away with the food. I can’t call the cops anyway. She gritted her teeth and squeezed the kids arm, but he would not give up. “I NEED THAT MONEY!”

“I NEED IT MORE!” he insisted.

“FOR WHAT? VIDEO GAMES AND TOYS?”

“On … on somewhere to live!” he shouted. Candice loosened her grip, by nature and realized the kid was sobbing.

“You’re homeless?” She frowned. He didn’t say anything, but she felt it was true. A moment’s pause. “You can’t cash that check without help.” She realized.

“I’ll figure it out.” He sniffled.

“No.” Why am I about to do this? “I can help you.” She let go of him and gripped the bars and pressed her forehead against them. “I know what its like… to be in your shoes. It’s tough.” The boy started to run but stopped and looked back at her. “Let me cash that check for you, I don’t even want any of it. I’ll let you keep it all.”

“I don’t trust you.” he said.

“I’ll let you hold my phone or something as collateral.” She offered, but he took off running, leaving her with her forehead pressed against the bars.

The world was grey, and Candice felt more foolish then ever. Guilt was eating away at her. She didn’t really think this entire thing through. What if she calls Bethany and asks if she’d received the money? Of, course she will. And Bethany would report a measly twenty bucks. I’m screwed. She realized. I’m screwed, again. She knew she’d just have to fuss up to it. She drew in a breath as she stood before Ambrosia Mintz’s planum french door and then knocked.

“Enter!” Candice cringed and did so. Her eyes went wide. That boy… he was standing in the office, smirking with the check in hand.

“Wha—”

“Were you really going to give this boy the money?” Ambrosia stood from her chair, walked around and sat at the edge of her desk, surprisingly not angry. Candice opened her mouth, but it was baron of words. “Interesting. I didn’t expect that.” Ambrosia slipped her glasses on and tapped the pencil to her chin. “You know this was all a test. This boy is a paid actor. He followed you. If you took the check from that envelope, he was to apprehend it and bring it directly back to me.” She confessed. “I took a chance on you, Candice. Letting you under my wing. You’re a brilliant artist, but I had to test you because of your sense of arrogance towards what you think you’re owed. And of course, your prior record. I couldn’t have that here.” Candice dropped her eyes. “I knew if you saw a chance to take again, you would.”

“You… knew?” Candice beamed red.

“Of course, I knew. You think you’re owed this and that.” Candice frowned. “But…” Ambrosia went on, “I didn’t think you’d give all that money away…” A moment’s pause.

“I’m really sorry.” Candice began. “I don’t, I just, I felt…”

“Under appreciated.” Ambrosia confirmed. “On the contrary, I was feeling under appreciated by the remarks you make when you think I don’t hear you. You can’t be the victim forever, Candice. You need to own up to your faults.” Ambrosia lectured. Candice nodded. “That check was never going to Bethany.” Ambrosia smiled, lifting the tension. That address is to my villa in Italy and I haven’t spoken to her in weeks. This was all for you, and you passed.”

Candice smiled shyly.

“Now, we can get to work, truly. Do you have the Japanese Album?” Ambrosia asked and Candice pulled it from her tote. “That is yours. Your very first work perk, the real thing of value. Now, design something full of temptation.”